Cracking A Dream
by Lazarus76
Summary: When the kindly Maurice Fischer gives Ariadne a Nutcracker, she doesn't expect it to turn into a young man who will take her to a dream world. !AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. I went to see a modern version of The Nutcracker ballet this afternoon, and it gave me an idea. For those not familiar with the original story, the second half takes part in a dream world. This will only be two parts!**

Ariadne shivered. Life in Dr Saito's Children's Home was not always easy. The doctor was strict, and unforgiving if his many rules were broken. The charges were expected to go to bed early, get up early, and work from dawn until dusk. If they weren't studying, they were working in the home.

She often found herself gazing longingly out of the window, wishing she could escape. To another world, a better one. One where she didn't have to wear the dreary grey clothing, spend her days working, thinking of yet another dreary day...

"Ari?"

She turned. Her friend, Eames, was standing behind her. He was smiling, and she couldn't help but return it. "Guess what?"

"What?" she replied, her face lightening.

"Maurice Fischer is coming this afternoon!"

Ariadne did smile. Maurice Fischer was the home's Governor, and made a point of always bringing a box of toys, and sweets with him for the children. Saito was never pleased about this, but as Fischer was wealthy and influential, he had grown to accept it.

"Mr Fischer's coming?" Ariadne practically clapped her hands in delight. Eames nodded.

"There's just one problem." He lowered his voice. "Robert's coming with him."

Ariadne shuddered. Robert was the monstrously spoiled son of Maurice, who never missed an opportunity to destroy any toys that were given to them. He was petulant and sulky, and always tormented and terrorised the children whenever his father's back was turned. Eames saw her look, and winced.

"It'll be ok," he said, hastily, "I'm sure-"

Suddenly, they heard a shout from the corridor. "Mr Fischer's here!"

Ariadne blinked. There was a flurry of movement, as the children moved down the drab, dingy corridors into the main room. It was neatly and sparsely furnished, with a few chairs and some increasingly threadbare beanbags and cushions. A small TV was set on one of the shelving units. They stood in a neat line as the Governor approached, his lanky frame clad in a soft grey suit. He smiled, benovently, at the gathered group.

"Well," he said, in a soft voice. "Good to see you all. I have brought some gifts - enough for everyone. Robert!"

Everyone looked as Robert Fischer entered the room. Tall, thin, and pale, his face wore a habitually sour expression, and he looked at the other children with resentful eyes. He slammed down a large box, and scowled at the children, sending a particularly venomous look at Eames and Ariadne. She shuddered.

"Robert!" Maurice spoke reproachfully. "Please! Think of others for once! These children have nothing in comparison to you!"

"Not my fault," his son answered, in a whine that grated on Ariadne's ears. "Not my fault their parents didn't want them!"

Ariadne flinched, and Eames flushed red. His father had left his mother before he was born, and his mother had found caring for a new baby overwhelming. As for Ariadne, her parents had died in a car accident when she was four. She barely remembered them, and Robert's cruel taunt made her feel a rush of hurt.

"Robert!" Maurice sounded angry. "Stop it! Why did I raise such a monster?"

Robert shrugged, smirking. "Because you thought sending me to boarding school was all you need to do to be a parent," he retorted. Before his father could say anything else, he ripped open the box, and the children started to crowd around. Before his father could stop him, he was pulling toys out of the box, and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. Until he found a toy gun, which he pulled out, and shoved at Eames.

"Bang!" he shouted, and started to giggle when he saw Eames jump. He then threw it on the floor, and continued pulling a variety of dolls and teddy bears out. Maurice Fischer shook his head, sadly. It was as though he'd given up on trying to control his spoiled, monstrous son. Suddenly, Robert paused. The children were foraging around on the carpet, picking up the discarded toys. He was holding a wooden object, and his mouth was curling in distaste.

"This is an ugly looking thing," he said, and threw it on the floor. Ariadne stepped forward - she was positive she'd heard the crack of wood. "Don't do that!" she snapped, angrily. Walking over, she picked the toy up.

She examined it, curiously. It seemed to be a wooden doll, in the shape of a boy. The painted hair was dark, and so were the eyes. But the mouth was too large, and turning it over in her hands, she noticed a lever poking out of the back. Curiously, she moved it, and realised that the mouth opened.

"Oh, you found the Nutcracker!" Maurice suddenly spoke, walking over to her.

"The Nutcracker?" Ariadne looked confused. "Its not a toy?"

Maurice frowned. "No, not really. My business partner, Peter Browning, picked it up when he was in Paris." He took the wooden object from Ariadne and turned it over in his hands. "Apparently-" he lowered his voice slightly - "its cursed."

"Cursed?" Ariadne could feel her curiosity beginning to pique. "How do you mean?"

Maurice handed it back to her, gently. "Peter bought it from a shop run by a man called Miles. He said the Nutcracker had been left on his shop's doorstep, with a note. Apparently, the Nutcracker was once a young boy, a wealthy one. But he fell foul of a curse, and was transformed into this."

Ariadne's eyes widened. "A boy? Really?" She examined the Nutcracker more closely. Now she was looking, she could spot what almost appeared to be a look of sadness in the large brown eyes, and the mouth appeared frozen in a look of shock. She swallowed.

"Its creepy!" Robert suddenly interrupted. "Dad, let's go!"

"In a minute!" Fischer glared at his son, then turned to Ariadne, and spoke kindly. "Look after the Nutcracker, Ariadne. Even if it isn't really a boy-" he laughed - "it still needs love."

She nodded, and ran a finger down the smooth, painted surface. "I will do!"

"No you won't!" Robert cut in. "Its an ugly, grinning, thing!" Snatching it out of her hand, he hurled it at the wall. To her shock, the impact caused the Nutcracker to break. One of the arms became loose and nearly fell out; a large crack was heard across the head. Her eyes widened, and she hurried to pick it up.

"ROBERT!" Maurice Fischer was incandescent with fury. "HOW DARE YOU!" He grabbed his son's arm, and began pulling him out of the room. "How any son of mine could behave like this!"

Robert was snickering without remorse as his father dragged him out. Horrified, Ariadne hurried over to the Nutcracker and where it had fallen. She blinked - was it her imagination, or had the expression on its face grown even sadder? She bit her lip.

"Never mind Princess." She blinked. Eames had come up behind her. "I have some glue, let me see if I can put him back together?"

She nodded, feeling numb. "Give me the glue, and I'll do it," she said, quickly, clutching the Nutcracker. Eames nodded, and hurried off to find it.

* * *

Ariadne sighed and rubbed her eyes. She looked at the clock. It was nearly half eleven, and she knew she'd be in trouble if she was caught out of bed. But she couldn't leave the Nutcracker. His face -despite the horrible near rictus grin that split it - was still beseeching. She carefully wiped off the excess glue, and kissed the top of his head.

"There," she said, looking at him. "I'm sorry, Nutcracker." She hugged it, and then realised that if anyone caught her, they'd think she was insane. Kissin and hugging a lump of wood? She swallowed, and decided to put it back in the main room.

She crept along the corridor, and put the Nutcracker on a chair. As she switched off the light, she could have sworn the eyes shifted to look at her. She shook her head, and decided to get herself a glass of milk.

As she stood in the kitchen, she heard a slight thump. She put the glass down, and felt her heart begin to pound. An intruder. It had to be. She walked to the door, and before leaving the kitchen, picked up a frying pan. Swallowing, she walked to the corridor.

A muffled thumping sound was heard from the living room. Then the sound of cursing. She froze, and held the frying pan up. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door, and swung the pan in the direction of the sound.

"Hey!" she heard a male voice say, with an edge of panic in it. "Don't do that!"

She blinked. "Stay where you are!" she commanded.

"I'm not going anywhere!" the voice protested. "I'm as stiff as a board!"

Ariadne swallowed. No, it wasn't possible. Her eyes searched in the darkness, and made out a dim shape. She took a deep breath. "How did you get in here?"

"I was already here. I was sitting by the fireplace."

She exhaled slowly. "You couldn't have been. There was no-one in here, but-"

"The Nutcracker," he finished. "No-one in here but the Nutcracker. I think you broke the curse. Can you put the light on? I want to thank you properly!"

She searched for the light switch. "OK. But I warn you - I'm armed!"

"I won't do anything," the voice promised. Fumbling, her fingers found the switch, and flicked it. Suddenly, as the room became illuminated with light, she blinked in astonishment. Standing before her was one of the most attractive young men she'd ever seen. He wasn't too tall, but lean, with an athletic look. But his face - looking into it, she recognised the large brown eyes that were laced with cinnamon, and also the slightly sad look in them. She took a deep breath.

"You were the Nutcracker?"

"I was," he said, his tone warm. "I was - until you lifted the curse." Walking forward, he took her hands in his, and kissed one. "Thank you."

"But how - why?" She couldn't understand it, and shook her head to clear it. He smiled again. When she saw his dimples, she felt like melting on the carpet.

"You cared for me, you kissed me. Remember?"

"I, uh-" she blinked, and suddenly became aware he was still holding her hand. She flushed, and he smiled.

"Listen," he said softly. "Do you want to run away with me? Run away to a dream?"

Her mind in a whirl, she nodded. Raisin her hand to his mouth, he kissed it again.

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.**

Ariadne swallowed, and allowed him to take her hand. "Who are you?" she finally managed to ask. He smiled at her.

"My name is Arthur," he told her, softly. "Arthur Hamilton. Just an ordinary boy, who happened to cross paths with someone who held a grudge, and turned me into wood."

She blinked. "Who? When? How?" She couldn't believe this was happening. He was still holding her hand; the warmth of his touch made her shiver slightly.

"Let me take you into the dream," he said, gently. "If I take you into the dream, we can free the others. Lets have a look through the toy box that Maurice Fischer brought."

She nodded, and they walked to the corner of the room. Fischer's trunk was lying in a corner of the room. Swallowing, she flipped the lid open. Several toys were still left in the bottom. Coming up beside her, Arthur leaned over and began to pull them out. As he lifted up a doll, he handed it to Ariadne.

"This is Mal," he said, softly. "Be gentle with her!"

Ariadne blinked. The doll was exquisite - dressed as a ballerina. Her eyes were large and expressive, and she could see, as she had seen in Arthur's, an expression of sadness. She bit her lip, running her hand over the soft swathes of her dress.

"And this is Dom."

A toy soldier. She looked at the solemn looking young man, his blue eyes creased in a frown.

"But Arthur," she said, looking puzzled. "Who did this? I don't-"

"Freeze!"

Both stood stock still. Her heart began to pound, and she instinctively reached for Arthur's hand, feeling his fingers clasp hers, reassuringly.

"Stay still!" A familiar, and over excited voice said, menacingly. "I know you're there, I know-"

"Eames!" Ariadne said in a loud whisper. "Stop it! Now!"

"Ari?" A small table light flicked on, illuminating the room. Eames blinked against the harsh electric light, then took in Arthur. "Who is? What? Why are you...?" Eames seemed unable to finish answering any of the questions.

Ariadne swallowed, and pulled Arthur close.

"I'm Arthur," the other boy said, his tone low. "I was the Nutcracker."

"What?" Eames blinked, and started to laugh. "Thats not possible. A nutcracker is a lump of wood, you're alive, and-"

"No, I was the nutcracker," Arthur interrupted. "I was the Nutcracker, and Ariadne made me...human."

"How did she do that?"

"She kissed me," Arthur confessed, blushing. Eames' eyebrows shot up. "She kissed you? You lucky b-"

"Eames!" Ariadne interrupted. "We don't have time for this! There are two other toys, that we have to free!"

"Others?" Eames looked astonished. "Please explain - how did they - and you - become toys? What happened?"

Arthur looked at him. "We were cursed. By a very bitter former friend of ours."

Ariadne swallowed. "Who?"

"His name is Nash," Arthur said, tiredly. "He was a friend of mine and Dom's. Dom created a dream world, and let us all in. But Nash...didn't wan to play by the rules. He wanted to create his own world."

"But how did he curse you all?" Ariadne's curiosity was piqued.

"He got us to enter a dream, a dream of a fairytale. But his projections-" Arthur shuddered - "were evil. They were all Nash's hidden insecurities coming home to roost. Dom, Mal and I - we tried to destroy them. But Nash got angry. Very angry. He claimed we were trying to change him, turn him into something that he wasn't."

"So he cursed all of you-" Ariadne began, "and-"

"And turned us into toys." Arthur looked at her. "He claimed that as we wanted to play with someone's life, we could be things that other people could play with."

She shook her head. "And he made you into toys that reflected how he saw you?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes. He claimed that Mal was just decoration, Dom was a little soldier who tried to police everyone, and I deserved to be ugly - but useful."

She shuddered. "He's evil."

"No," Arthur said, smiling sadly. "He's just sure of himself. But the only way I can lift the curse is to go into the dream, and slay the projections. But I need help. Will you join me?"

"Of course!" Ariadne said, moving forward.

"No!" Eames cried out. The two turned; they'd forgotten he was there. "Not on your own!"

"Then please come too," Arthur said, smiling. "I could do with all the help I can have." He looked at them. "We have to enter the dream, and end the curse."

"Sounds like fun," Eames said, nodding. "Where is Nash?"

Arthur looked at him. "He's right here in the city," he said, softly. "I know where he lives. We can leave and find him now. Ready?"

Ariadne nodded, as did Eames. "Ready!"

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

"Wait!" Ariadne exclaimed. She looked from Arthur, to Eames. "We can't just leave - Saito will never take us back!"

Eames shrugged. "I don't have a problem with that." He looked at Arthur. "We're both of age, he'd be kicking us out in the next year anyway."

Arthur looked slightly uneasy. "No-one ever needs to know about this. We just leave, and you can return. It is that simple."

Mollified, Ariadne nodded. "All right. If you're sure."

Arthur took her hand. "Ariadne. I need your help. Friends of mine are trapped in a dream world. He cursed me when I woke up. We need to find them, and soon."

She gulped. He was exerting a gentle pressure on her hand, and she thought she saw a spark in his eyes that she'd never seen before. Finally, she nodded. "All right."

Eames was practically halfway out the window. "Well, come on!" He looked over his shoulder. "What are you two waiting for?"

Ariadne shook her head. "Eames. We can use the front door."

* * *

A few minutes later, the three of them were walking down the street. Ariadne had insisted on retrieving her jacket, and her wallet. She had opened it and flicked through the contents. "20 dollars," she sighed.

Eames raised an eyebrow. "More than I have." He cast a glance at Arthur. "You allright?"

He'd noticed that the other young man was walking slowly, and a little stiffly. Arthur laughed slightly. "I'm ok. Just...stiff." He looked at the two of them. "I was made of wood for - well, I don't know."

"Mr Fischer claims his business partner found you in Paris," Ariadne offered, timidly. "From the shop of a man called Miles."

Arthur rubbed his forehead. "Sounds vaguely familiar. I couldn't move or speak, but I could still hear. And think."

Eames shuddered. "Creepy."

Arthur shrugged. "I got used to it."

* * *

Nash burrowed further down into his chair, his eyes focusing on the feeble situation comedy broadcasting from the television. In the crackling glow of the screen, his face, normally pale, took on a slightly greenish hue. He glanced at the clock. 11.30pm.

He got up, wincing at a slight pain in his shoulders. He turned, and his eyes were immediately caught by two items sitting on a shelf. A toy soldier, and a china doll. At the sight of them, his face took on a smirk. He walked over, and picked the soldier up.

"Thought you'd double cross me, did you?" he told it. "Well, you and your girlfriend are stuck here, and your friend Arthur - he's on another continent!"

Nash smiled, cruelly. He'd put the nutcracker in a box, and simply put "any toy shop, Paris" on the packaging. He shrugged. "Arthur might have been thrown into the sea," he informed the lifeless toys, their expressions frozen in uneasy innocence. "You'll never see him again, and never see each other again!"

He put them back on the shelf, and then switched off the light. Moving into the bedroom, he began to focus on getting undressed. As he pulled his shirt off, he heard a noise. Frowning, he ignored it.

* * *

"This is the place?" Eames whispered. Arthur nodded. "Yes. And, oh look," he said, pointing. "Fire escape, and the window should be easy."

Ariadne bit her lip. "Arthur, are you sure you should-" He nodded. "Yes."

Before she or Eames could protest, he was starting to move up the fire escape, cautiuosly, not allowing the rickety metal to move too much. Ariadne watched him - any trace of the stiffness he'd complained of seemed to be disappearing rapidly. Before a few minutes had passed, he'd reached the window, and began to prise it open.

Eames' jaw dropped. "Impressive."

Ariadne moved forward. "Come on." Emboldened by Arthur's approach, she began to scuttle up the escape, her light weight barely causing it to shudder.

Biting his lip, Eames followed.

* * *

Arthur carefully moved himself inside the apartment, and scouted. A small desk lamp was still on, causing the room to be feebly illuminated. He swallowed, and began to search.

Suddenly, he noticed them. Smiling inwardly with relief, he moved towards the doll and soldier. Their expressions were even more downcast than he'd previously remembered. He moved towards them, then suddenly, heard a click.

Nash was standing in the doorway. In his hand was a gun, pointed at Arthur.

"Well, if it isn't little woodentop," he smirked. "What happened, Artie? Did you convince some poor little girl to love you and give you a kiss?"

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